


You Were a House on Fire

by CannibalKats



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Choi Twins raised by their Dad, M/M, juciel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-02
Updated: 2017-11-17
Packaged: 2019-01-28 05:03:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12598808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CannibalKats/pseuds/CannibalKats
Summary: Saeyoung Choi was an enigma, the Prime Minister's second son.  Popular in the tabloids but rarely seen outside photos in a magazine.  Jumin Han had always been a little curious about the apparently outgoing yet always illusive twin.  A man who seemed more fit for the spotlight then his timid brother.There had to be something wrong with him.





	1. That's Not Reality, It's just a Point of View

1

Jumin Han was not a fan of politically charged parties, regardless of his own patronage they seemed like so much performance art.   _ Bad _ performance art at that.  He’d rather be home drinking his own wine with his cat in his lap.  Not playing the Junior Han, not answering to Director Han outside of the office.  

Last night had been different.

They party had not been.  He’d tried to beg off, give some excuse of exhaustion to his father.  It was end of quarter after all, it was barely a lie.  The elder Han had been expecting it however, he had a counter planned.

“Both of the Choi twins will be in attendance,” he whispers conspiratorially over their lunch.

Jumin can’t miss this.

Saeyoung Choi is rarely seen at these events.  His brother is always there and Jumin has,  on the occasion he’s gotten close enough, commiserated with the younger man on the pitfalls of being a high profile heir.  He would even go so far as to say he liked speaking with the younger man, who was always brutally honest yet never impolite.  His brother on the other hand was only ever seen slouching and disinterested behind the rest of the family during press conferences.  

Or in tabloid photos at popular clubs with Men and Women hanging off of him.  A sight that would normally turn Jumin’s stomach but in the case of the illusive Choi twin it only intrigued him further.  

Something had to be wrong with him, he figured.  

Saeran Choi had been a sickly child, though Jumin was told he’d outgrown whatever illnesses had plagued his youth, he was smaller than the men who always surrounded him.  He didn’t exactly strike an impressive figure when left to his own devices.  His brother on the other hand had always been stronger, healthier.  

He’d gone to school overseas.  Jumin had heard him lauded as a genious more than once.  He commanded attention even when he was obviously uninterested in his surroundings.  Jumin had been out of the country on business the last three times he’d come to one of these parties, he wouldn’t miss the opportunity to see him in person this time.

He hadn’t been disappointed.  In fact the taller of the Choi twins had exceeded his expectations.  

He’d arrived late to the event, a combination of last minute tasks at the office and rush hour traffic.  The Choi’s were standing together, Saeran and the Prime Minister standing close together engaged in animated conversation with his father.  Saeyoung slightly behind them, slouched and uninterested thumbing through his phone.

Jumin can understand the sentiment as he catches the edges of the conversation.  Voting districts, poll numbers, it hardly deserved the level of energy the three men were putting into it.  Unfortunately his father had waved him over and he’d been forced to feign interest.

He was more interested in Saeyoung Choi’s suit.  It stood out against the backdrop of dull greys and blacks.  Jumin’s own suit was a rich blue and he’d worried he would stand out too much, but next to Saeyoung he might as well have worn a department store suit in a muted neutrals.  He can tell the moment the other man catches him looking.

Saeyoung’s back straightens, his head cocks slightly though he doesn’t look up from his phone.  Jumin fights back a blush that starts at the tips of his ears.  He’s admiring a finely made suit not gawking like some teenaged boy.  The man was wearing an ascot for god’s sake.

Saeyoung runs a hand through his artfully messy hair and then extends the same hand towards Jumin. “I’m sorry they have terrible manners, raised in a very fine barn,” Jumin returns the firm handshakes and the man gives him a lopsided grin. “Saeyoung.”

“Jumin Han,” he nods, glancing towards the three other men who’ve stopped talking and stare directly at them.

“Saeyoung,” the Prime Minister says, his voice low. “I believe you said you were uninterested in this event, your exact words were you would only stand in the back and look bored.”

Saeyoung shrugs, still holding Jumin’s hand, turning it around and examining his palm like a piece of art. “Thought  _ you _ told me to  _ get interested _ Pops?”

The Prime Minister breathes a long suffering sigh and turns back to Jumin’s father.

“So Jumin Han,” Saeyoung smirks letting his hand drop, “you support my father’s policies.”

Jumin quirks an eyebrow, “I suppose I do.  I believe he is the candidate best suited for positive change with regards to the soci-”

“Oh geeze,” Saeyoung interrupts, “you really had an answer for that.” He chuckles, “Good on you.”

“Why wouldn’t I answer your question?” Jumin asks.

“Did you study,” Saeyoung tugs Jumin along behind him towards the bar. “Saeran spends three days answering practice questions off cue cards before every event the old man drags him to.”

“I suppose I may sound a bit rehearsed, I do attend quite a few of these events,” Jumin shrugs.

“Oh, cutting words!” Saeyoung clutches his chest. “Just because you don’t see me doesn’t mean I’m not here,” he clucks his tongue.  “Who do you think takes care of security Mr. CEO?  Besides, I’m a master of disguise,” He raises an eyebrow and leans against the bar.

“I didn’t mean to insinuate anything,” Jumin finds himself smirking, “perhaps you’re defensive out of guilt Mr. Choi.”

“Oof! Hyung,” he snorts, “Hitting me where it hurts.”

Jumin can’t stop the blush this time. “I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

Saeyoung chuckles again and Jumin is in awe at the ease with which the man in front of him can laugh with strangers. “It’s fine, I like it.  Reminds me of Saeran when he’s not on stage.”

Jumin doesn’t answer, though it’s strangely gratifying to encounter another person who views these events as theatre. He finds himself stuck on the younger man’s use of Hyung.  He’d never been called that before. Certainly Saeyoung Choi did not know him nearly well enough to use such an honorific.

Fingers snap under his nose, “What do you drink Hyung?”

Jumin examines the younger man’s face, he is definitely doing it on purpose,  _ trying _ to fluster him.  He lets out a sigh, “Red wine, something Italian, perhaps a dessert wine, Barolo if you have it.”

Saeyoung smiles wide and taps on the bar catching the attention of a flustered bartender.  He leans in and whispers something making her giggle and shake her head.  She disappears briefly and comes back with a tall glass of something he can’t identify that she hands to Saeyoung with pink cheeks before pouring him a glass of wine. 

He notes the bottle is labeled for the event. 

“Geeze, you already know it’s not what you asked for should I even bother apologising,” Saeyoung frowns.

Jumin shrugs, “I was aware that my request was not exactly realistic.”

“But you asked anyway,” the younger man says with a smirk. “I like the way you think Jumin Han.”

“What exactly are you drinking?” Jumin asks, curiosity getting the better of him.

“Oh this?” Saeyoung swirls the liquid in his glass and sniffs at it theatrically, “Only the best for the Prime Minister's favorite son.”

Jumin rolls his eyes.

“It’s PhD Pepper,” Saeyoung chuckles. “Don’t drink often, definitely not at this shit.”

Jumin snorts.

“Listen,” Saeyoung leans in conspiratorially, “do you dance Jumin Han?”

His brow knits together, “I suppose I am capable.”

Saeyoung bumps his shoulder against Jumin’s and leans back against the bar.  “Do you do anything for fun or are you always this serious?”

Jumin is fairly certain that he’s being challenged. “Yeah,” he says, dropping his mask for a moment. “Sure, I dance.”

A look he can’t read passes Saeyoung’s face before he pushes himself up and away from the bar. “Fucking perfect,” he proclaims. “I got thirty minutes until I’ve fulfilled my obligation to the old man.  You wanna have a good time?”

Jumin is too intrigued to make an excuse. He shrugs.

Saeyoung smirks. “Do a lap, or whatever it is your kind does at these things and meet me out front.”

Jumin nods and watches Saeyoung push his way gracefully into the crowd before he turns back.  There were plenty of investors here he could speak with.  He could easily kill much more than a half hour making his rounds.  He  _ should _ ignore Saeyoung’s offer if he’s honest with himself but he didn’t want to be here.  He’s fairly certain his father would have no complaints about him leaving early if he said he was going with one of the Choi’s.

Connections were important after all.  Even if it was with, what his father would consider, the less desirable twin.

Still he lies when he finally catches up to his father.  Tells the man he’s exhausted, that he  _ still _ has paperwork to do and  _ forgive me I think I’ll leave early _ .

His father shakes his head and frowns but doesn’t argue.

Saeyoung is leaning against a shiny red sports car when he finally steps outside the venue.  His suit jacket hung over one shoulder and a licorice pipe stuck between his lips. He pops the candy out of his mouth and puffs out a breath that steams like smoke in the chill night air. “Your Chariot awaits, Hyung.”

Jumin shakes his head and Saeyoung almost shoves him out of the way so he can open the door to the two seater. “Why do you keep calling me that, you’ve only just met me.”

Saeyoung shrugs and shuts the door.  He smiles and waves as he passes in front of the car, checks his face in the side mirror before slipping behind the wheel. “You seem to like it, I  _ can _ stop.”

Jumin shakes his head.  

“Mind if we swing by my place so I can change?” Saeyoung asks.

Jumin is about to answer when the tires of the sports car squeal and Saeyoung speeds away from the building.  He grips the armrest and listens to the other man cackle wildly while he catches his breath.

“You ok over there  _ Hyung _ ?” Saeyoung smirks and glances at him out of the corner of his eyes.

Jumin can feel his cheeks hot and pink and takes a deep breath. “Are we over dressed?”

“Nah,” Saeyoung shakes his head taking a turn faster than Jumin was comfortable with, “ _ you’re _ perfect.”

Saeyoung’s home is smaller than Jumin expects.  An apartment rather than a condo, one whole wall of the living space is covered in computer equipment, the kitchen sink is full of dishes and the counter is piled with takeout boxes and empty soda bottles.  He doesn’t seem embarrassed in the least.

He starts shedding clothing as he moves towards the hallway where Jumin suspects his bedroom is.  Jumin noticeably cringes as pieces of Saeyoung’s expensive suit land haphazardly on the filthy floor.  Jumin has to wonder if this man employs a maid at all, certainly he could afford one and yet he could also afford a much more lavish home than he currently lived in.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Saeyoung calls from somewhere down the hall, “how’s a dude like me afford a swanky place like this,” he laughs at his own joke.

“I was actually thinking you should fire your maid,” Jumin deadpans.

“Oh!” Saeyoung sounds closer and a door slams open somewhere. “You’re right, she’s awful, never here when I need her,” another door slams and Saeyoung peaks out of the dark hallway to offer a lopsided grin at his guest, “always leaves her trash lying around.”

He disappears again.

Jumin stays where he is and waits.  He can hear the soft muttering of Saeyoung arguing with himself and he glances at his watch.  It’s a half hour before he hears the sounds of someone in the hallway.  The clack, clack, clack, of heels on hardwood cause him to look up surprised.

“I’m good right?” Saeyoung smiles wide, his lips shimmering a pale pink, his eyebrows carefully penciled to a perfect arch.  He winks theatrically and his eyelids shimmer blue and gold.  

This is art, Jumin thinks before he has a moment to register who he’s looking at. “I hardly recognized you,” he manages.

Saeyoung does a twirl lifting one foot and letting himself fall into Jumin’s arms as he completes his rotation in a boatneck dress and nude pumps.  He curses when he rights himself, his carefully styled wig caught in Jumin’s tie clip.

“The breasts are very convincing,” Jumin nods.

“ _ Are _ they?” He asks pressing them together, “I’m never really convinced, here,” he takes Jumin by the hand and presses it to his chest inviting him to squeeze. “They don’t feel quite right  _ do they Hyung _ ?”

Jumin blushes. “I suppose they are texturally inaccurate.”

Saeyoung freezes for a moment, “Are you uncomfortable Jumin? I figured you knew?  I thought everyone knew I did this.”

“I had uh,” Jumin clears his throat and pulls his hand back. “I had  _ heard _ rumors I hadn’t realized they were true.”

“Are you saying the ones about you aren’t?” Saeyoung raises an eyebrow.

Jumin shakes his head. “The rumours about me are based in the suspicion that I am like my father,  _ I am not _ .”

“Huh,” Saeyoung tilts his head appraisingly. “Fancy that.  You still wanna go dance or is this weird now?”

“This is fine, I needed a moment to acclimate, I am fine now.”

“You’re not,” Saeyoung snorts. “You know I’ve known you for five whole minutes and even I can see you get real fucking formal when you’re uncomfortable.”

Jumin shrugs.  No one else had ever mentioned that aside from Jihyun, who had known him long enough to see through his mask. “I will be fine in a moment, I am surprised.”

“You’re sure?” Saeyoung’s heels put them eye to eye and Jumin has a moment to appreciate that the man in front of him.  Saeyoung had been attractive and well dressed before, like this he was stunning and just as well put together.

He nods. “Yes, I believe you challenged me I don’t expect to disappoint.”

“Oh Hyung,” Saeyoung coos, “never ever.”

Jumin isn’t sure he’s ever noticed himself blush so much in one evening.

Saeyoung continues to insist on driving.

“You’ve never driven a day in your life,” he chuckles opening the passenger door and waiting.

Jumin reluctantly ducks his head and slips into the plush leather seat.  His new friend was correct but Jumin could have easily called his personal driver. Not to mention, “You certainly know a lot about me,” he says as Saeyoung drops his shoes in Jumin’s lap and slides behind the wheel.

“Of course I do, I personally verify every single person invited to those stupid fucking parties.”

Jumin tilts his head curiously.

He chuckles. “Wasn’t joking y’know.  I really am in charge of Pops’ security.  Didn’t get all the fancy training just to dupe gear in video games,” he snorts. “I mean I do that too, but that’s just for funsies.”

Jumin shakes his head but the car is slowing to a stop behind a warehouse in an industrial park Jumin is vaguely familiar with.  For a moment he has a pang of fear.  He’s befriended the wrong brother, this one is a serial killer.

Then he catches the thump of bass from somewhere near by and Saeyoung smirks at him as he grabs the shoes out of his lap. “Be a gentleman and open my door for me?”

Jumin nods and drags himself out of the car.  He has regrets.  Now that he’s here he’s not exactly interested in whatever was happening. He’s assumed they’d go to some kind of club. He could prove he was capable of relaxing and then recline in the VIP section with a glass of scotch and observe the other man, try to see exactly what drew so many people to him.

Instead he’s opening the driver’s side door of a foreign sports car and extending a hand as one smooth, toned leg extends out onto the gravel.  

Saeyoung takes his hand and pulls himself out of the car.  Not a bit wobbly in his heels on the uneven ground.  He hooks his hand around Jumin’s bicep regardless and they make their way towards the building. House music getting louder the closer they get. 

“Not the kind of dancing you meant right,” Saeyoung chirps in his ear.

He can hear the smirk on the man’s face without having to look. “Simply not my preference,” Jumin shrugs.  Regardless he’s confident that he can participate in this farce.

The bouncer nods and raps on the door without questioning them.  Saeyoung pouts, “I knew the password and everything.”

The music inside is loud, too loud to facilitate conversation but still, men and women press close to them and speak in shouts.  He can see the way their mouths form his name and Saeyoung smiles. Saeyoung inclines his head, accepts hugs, and cheek kisses and people grasping him meaningfully by the arm.  When he turns to Jumin and tilts his head towards the writhing bodies on the dance floor Jumin can’t hear his words but he takes his meaning.

He takes Saeyoung by the hand and gives the man a spin, he watches the wig slip a little as Saeyoung throws his head back to laugh.  His throat is free from the freckles that speckle his cheeks and forehead, and Jumin briefly considers what it would feel like to mark the perfect golden skin of his throat.  

He tugs the laughing man in the pretty blue dress behind him and into the pulsing crowd.

Jumin Han could dance. He could dance to anything, in any style a situation might call for but he was unprepared for just how well Saeyoung Choi could  _ move _ .  Jumin knew dancing as a series of movements, the types of which adjusted to fit a situation.  Every genre of music an equation of hips and feet and rhythm.   He could dance to house music, and yet he felt entirely inadequate next to the undulating hips of man in front of him.

Still he did his best to keep up.

His best lasted hours before Saeyoung was taking him by the hand and tugging him towards the makeshift bar at the back of the building.  The other man slips beneath the slab of stone that serves as a counter top, flips off the bartender and slips back tossing Jumin a bottle of water.

“It’s nearly dawn Hyung, want me to take you home?”

He wants to argue.  Wants to stay.  He’s never lost time to fun before and yet he has too many responsibilities to allow himself that.  He nods as Saeyoung hooks his hand around his arm again and squeezes before he leads them outside.

Jumin is soaked.  The building had been unventilated and sweltering despite the chilly night and yet he hadn’t realized how much he’d sweat until the cold air hit him.  He cringes and pulls at the fabric of his shirt. Saeyoung bumps their shoulders together. “There’s clothes in the trunk if you want something dry.

Jumin doesn’t respond, doesn’t even acknowledge the comment but Saeyoung still pops the trunk and hands him a red tshirt and a black and yellow hooded sweater that Jumin can’t bring himself to decline.

“Looks good on you,” Saeyoung nods when Jumin drops heavily into the passenger seat.

“You’re flattering me,” Jumin yawns.

“Is it working?” Saeyoung winks before the car roars to life.

“No,” Jumin tries to wink back but only succeeds in blinking both his eyes aggressively at the other man.  Saeyoung does his best not to laugh at the display.

Jumin shouts when he does a burnout before tearing out of the parking lot.

“Oh Jesus,” Saeyoung whistles, having followed Jumin up to his penthouse, “you really live like this.”

“I apologize for the mess, my maid is atrocious,” Jumin sighs, bending down to gather up the ball of white fluff winding between his feet.

“I can give you the number for my girl,” Saeyoung smirks and then catches eye of the cat in Jumin’s arms. “Oh you’ve got a baby?” He squeals.

“No,” Jumin says, placing Elizabeth III carefully on the floor.  “Please, do not think you can simply come in here and run your hands all over Elizabeth without  her consent.”

Saeyoung snorts. “Oh, sorry.” He chuckles and kneels down gracefully, not even needing to tug at the short skirt of his dress. He holds out his hand, palms up and waits a moment while the cat sniffs at it.

Elizabeth III pushes past the outstretched hand and steps two front feet experimentally on Saeyoung impressive false chest shakes her fluffy head and then sits expectantly in front of his knees.

The men chuckle.

“Yeah that’s what I keep saying,” he nods at the cat and reaches into his neckline pulling the silicone breasts out and then nodding to the cat.  

She tries again.  This time she continues to his shoulder and rubbing her face over his cheek.

“Do I pass?” He smiles up at Jumin.

Jumin shrugs.  He watches Saeyoung let out a small celebratory whoop and run his fingers through his cat's fur smiling contently.  A soft thing that Jumin has yet to see, he hums as he pets Elizabeth.  Jumin finds himself kneeling with them, scratching under her chin and between her ears as Saeyoung runs his fingers from her shoulders to the tip of her tail, over and over again.

“You know,” he says dreamily, almost to himself. “I have always  _ really _ liked cats.”


	2. Let's Not Talk About the Weather

2

“You look exhausted,” Jihyun chuckles over a cup of tea.

Jumin stifles a yawn.  He’d forgotten about his breakfast plans when he’d decided not to set an alarm and woken up to his best friend standing over him as he lay face down in his bed. “That’s because I  _ am _ exhausted,” he growls.

“Was it a  _ rager _ , did the Prime Minister throw a rager?” Jihyun snorts.

Jumin rolls his eyes and stretches before drinking half of the mostly cold coffee Jihyun had brought him in a single gulp. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“This is a new look for you,” his friend teases.

Belatedly Jumin realizes he’d fallen asleep in Saeyoung’s sweater.  He’s changed into athletic pants while the man with the messy red hair had sat splayed out in the middle of his floor petting and chirping at Elizabeth III  but when he’d offered the borrowed clothing back he’d shaken his head,  _ later _ .

Jumin barely remembered Saeyoung leaving as he half dozed in his favorite chair watching them.  

“My shirt was,” Jumin pauses for a moment and considers, “wet, I borrowed this from a friend.”

Jihyun’s cup hits the table, his mouth spreads in a wide smile and he leans forward on his elbows. “A  _ friend _ ?”

Jumin rolls his eyes, “God.”

“Wait,” Sea coloured hair falls into Jihyun’s eyes as he shakes his head like he’s trying to rattle a thought into place, “why was your shirt wet?  Did you speak without thinking again?”

“I have learned my lesson,” Jumin mutters, remembering months ago when he’d told a friend of Rika’s that the unflattering cut of her coral gown made her look like an over ripe peach in a toddlers fist.  He’d ended up wearing whatever she’d been drinking.

“Stop being evasive,” Jihyun groans, “there’s glitter in your hair, you’re wearing someone else's clothes, did you even go to that event last night?”

“I did,” Jumin shrugs, “would you like to know who I met?”

Jihyun growls and chugs the rest of his tea. “Why are you like this?”

“I can see you’re not interested,” Jumin smirks gathering Elizabeth into his lap.

“Jesus you’re like some kind of comic book villain.” Jihyun sighs, pushing his hair out of his face and gesturing to the cat in Jumin’s lap.

Jumin chuckles and pets his cat.  “It was very surprising, strange that you seem so uninterested.”

“Please, Jumin Han, tell me about this interesting person who lent you a sweater and introduced you to glitter at the Prime Minister’s gala.”

Jumin rolls his eyes. ‘It was his son actually.”

“Saeran Choi never really seemed the type,” Jihyun considers.

“No,” Jumin says, “the other one.”  When Jihyun doesn’t respond Jumin tilts his head, “you were aware Saeran Choi has a twin?  Saeyoung Choi?”

“No I know,” Jihyun says, “I just didn’t expect him to be the sort of person you’d engage with.”

“I admit,” Jumin starts sipping his almost cold coffee, “I had only intended to meet the man, compare him to the person in the media. However he was,” he trails off.

“What?” Jihyun frowns.

“I’m not certain how to phrase it.  He was  _ not _ what I was expecting.  He was  _ more _ .”

“More?”

Jumin shrugs. “He suggested that I was incapable of  _ loosening up _ , we went to some kind of underground club,”  _ he called me Hyung, and teased me, _ “Were you aware that he’s a very attractive woman?”

“Jumin,” Jihyun laughs, “do you hear yourself?”

Jumin shrugs. “Are you jealous?”

“Are you coming to lunch with Rika and I?” He asks, changing the subject glancing at his watch, “I have to go pick her and her cousin up soon.”

“Do I have time to change?” Jumin rolls his shoulders considering the offer.

Jihyun smirks, “I can’t wait to tell Rika you’ve made a friend.”

Jumin groans.

He changes out of the borrowed shirt. Dark jeans and a cable knit sweater seem sufficient for lunch with his best and, until last night, only friends.  He sets the sweater and tshirt on top of his laundry bin and realizes his jacket and shirt are still in Saeyoung’s Choi’s ridiculous sports car. A problem for later. 

Jihyun’s driving seems less concerning after the night in Saeyoung’s car.  He even appears to be going the speed limit in comparison to the way Saeyoung had sped through the city.  He had a habit of finding friends who drove too fast.  

He steps out of the car when they stop, holding the door for Rika as she takes the front passenger seat and waits for her cousin to slip in behind Jihyun.  The usually smiling boy with the dark hair and lavender eyes has his jaw set as he slips past Jumin, he’s staring daggers at Rika who seems unperturbed by his unusual attitude.

“Busy day love?” Jihyun asks as Rika presses a kiss to his cheek.

“Just enough,” she smiles at Jumin in the mirror, “I talked that actor we were discussing into MCing for the event.” She turns and leans between the seats, “you’d like him Jumin he’s very dedicated, he’s gotten very popular all on his own merit,” she sighs wistfully, “he’s amazing.”

“Careful Rika, Jihyun will get jealous.” Jumin says with an attempt at a wink.

The brown haired boy presses himself closer to the window and huffs.

“You’ll never guess what Jumin did last night,” Jihyun sings as they pull away.

“Oh a game,” Rika claps.

Jumin rolls his eyes.

“The obvious answer,” she hums considering, “is he went to a boring political party and spent too much money on something he didn’t need.”

Jumin groans.  “That has only happened three times.”

Rika giggles, Jihyun snorts.

“Jumin made a friend,” Jihyun stage whispers.

“A friend?” She whispers back

Jumin groans.

“I bet if Mr. Han wanted his friend to meet us for lunch no one would tell  _ him _ no,” Yoosung mutters and Rika’s head snaps back to glare at the boy.

“Is there an issue?” Jumin smiles pleased to be out of the spotlight.

“Yoosung,” Rika warns, “you’re not paying for your own lunch you do not get to just  _ invite _ a virtual stranger because he happens to be nearby.”

“Why not?” Jumin and Yoosung ask in unison.

Rika sighs.

“If it a monetary issue I will pay for Yo-”

“It’s a manners issue Jumin,” Rika says.

“Yoosung is correct,” Jumin asserts, “if I was to ask Saeyoung to meet us for lunch you would have no complaints.”

The boy pushes his hair out of his face and tries not to look smug.

“If your friend is still in the area have him meet us at the restaurant.  As I  _ did not _ spend too much money on something ridiculous last night I will pay for everyone’s lunch.”

“You love this don’t you,” Rika laughs.

Yoosung’s fingers fly across the keys on his phone and he smiles widely before he announces “Seven says he’s almost there anyway.  He said he was meeting a friend but they weren’t home,” Yoosung frowns

“That’s a  _ different _ name,” Jumin muses.

Yoosung shrugs, “It’s not his real name, just his gamertag.”

“He’s some stranger Yoosung met on a video game over break,” Rika sighs.

Yoosung glances around and shrugs, “He’s not a  _ stranger _ , just because we met on the internet.  He helps me with my homework sometimes and we saw a movie together just before break was over.”

“Oh my god Yoosung,” Rika sighs. “Does your Mother know?”

Yoosung rolls his eyes and Jumin laughs. He supposes there was probably a difference between socializing over the internet and doing business via emails that went over his head.  Rika and Jihyun already have plenty of fuel to tease him with so he decides not to interject.

They’ve barely gotten out of the car when Yoosung has his hand in the air waving at someone near the doors to the restaurant.  Jumin follows big purple eyes and stumbles slightly over his own feet.  The man smiling back hasn’t seen him yet.

His bright red hair is curly, actually unkempt rather than the carefully crafted mess he remembers from the night before.  He’s wearing glasses, garish frames that cover half his face with bright yellow and black stripes, his loose jeans the opposite of the well tailored suit he’d worn the night before, his sweater black, a galaxy print visible inside the hood and a heavy cross around his neck.  His boots are old, scuffed.

Jumin drags his feet, watching the man Yoosung had called Seven lift the boy in the air with a hug and then ruffle his hair as he drops him onto his feet. “So,” the familiar voice chirps, hands firm on Yoosung’s shoulders while Rika shakes her head, “who is our very generous benefactor?”

_ Shit _ , Jumin thinks.

“J-Jumin Han, my cousins fr-friend,” Yoosung stammers and Jumin remembers suddenly how shy the boy is, how many times he’d met him before he could speak in front of him.

Saeyoung, or  _ Seven _ as Yoosung called him whirls around to look.  There’s a brief look of panic on his face before he manages to cover it in a wry smile. “Oh, Mr. Youngest CEO Jumin Han?”

Jumin raises an eyebrow and reaches out a hand, “Nice to meet you Mr.  _ Seven? _ ”  

Seven chuckles nervously and then takes his hand, pumps it comedically and Jumin can see the way the smile on his face relaxes into something natural.  He suspects his new friends had plenty of reason to pretend to be someone else.

“Oh, I like that!  _ Mr.Seven _ ,” he snorts.

They follow Rika and Jihyun into the restaurant.  Yoosung finds his voice and begins to tell Seven all about meeting the actor Rika had mentioned.  His name was Zen and Jumin is almost certain he’s heard of the man.  All the while he can see Saeyoung watching him from the corner of his eye.

Jumin likes having a one up on the younger man. Contrary to the night before when he’d been entirely out of control.  He kind of liked the underlying fear on Saeyoung Choi’s face after how smug he’d been all evening.

“Is this new?” Yoosung asks touching the sleeve of Saeyoung’s sweater, “you said you never took the other one off.”

“Well,” he starts glancing at Jumin and smirking, “that’s what Chivalry gets you, lent it to a kitty in need and they  _ stole _ it.”

Jumin rolls his eyes and orders drinks for the table, “PhD Pepper for our new friend,” he smirks.

“How’d you know?” Yoosung asks awed.

“A skill I’ve picked up,” Jumin shrugs waving him off. “Mr.Seven, are you certain this  _ Kitty _ stole your sweater?  Is it perhaps conceivable that you simply forgot to ask for it back?”

“Oh no,” Saeyoung shakes his head. “It’s definitely stolen, gone forever.  So close yet so far away.”

Jumin rolls his eyes again.

“Besides, this Kitty isn’t answering it’s phone,” he smirks.

Jumin realizes he hasn’t heard his phone all day.  He’s not even checked his emails.  He also realizes that there is no way he can check to see if he’s forgotten his phone without giving himself away.  Saeyoung Choi was a force.  Each new interaction seemed to bring some unexpected response and Jumin couldn’t tell which of them it would be from.  

They order lunch, Yoosung keeps Saeyoung busy almost entirely, but Jumin can see the other man watching him in his peripheral.  He can see his ears perk up as Jihyun and Rika tease him about his  _ new friend _ the slight quirk to his lips because he knows they’re talking about him without knowing he’s there.  Jumin pointedly avoids mentioning anything of any substance.

“God Jumin,” Jihyun groans, throwing his hands up, “are you  _ in love _ with him?”

Jumin snorts, he can see Saeyoung’s shoulders shake as he suppresses a chuckle. “I’m not sure I understand how you’ve come to that conclusion.”

“You  _ are _ being evasive,” Rika says, “even for you.”

He shrugs. “It simply does not seem to be my place to discuss someone behind their back.”

“It’s not like we’re  _ gossiping _ ,” Jihyun sighs.

“Yeah Jumin,” Saeyoung smirks turning away from Yoosung and resting his head in his hands. “Are you in  _ love _ with him?”

“Seven!” Yoosung hisses, slapping him on the arm.

Jumin can think of a hundred scathing responses but he understands exactly why Saeyoung might go out as someone else.  Someone who flies under the radar, who is neither the ethereal goddess that had taken him to an underground club, or the charming prime minister’s son.  So he pushes himself away from the table.  Mumbles some apology and finds their waitress.  He leaves his information with their waitress, so that his friends can finish their lunch on him.

He’s almost out the door when Saeyoung catches up to him.

“Hey, Mr. Serious, hey!” he calls after him.  “Sorry, did I make you uncomfortable again?” He asks catching him by the arm and following him out.

“No,” Jumin says, finally taking the time to search his pockets for his phone.  He groans. “I don’t have my phone.”

Saeyoung chuckles.

“I can’t call my driver,” he sighs, “if I don’t have my phone.”

Saeyoung claps his hand on Jumin’s shoulder and laughs outright. “You could borrow my phone,” he says as he sucks in a breath, “or the simplest solution is you let me drive you home.”

Jumin shakes his head.

“Come on Hyung,” Saeyoung chuckles, “I’m not that bad.”

Jumin lets himself be lead to Saeyoung’s car.  Different than the one they’d taken the night before.  A silver four door, still sporty but more practical than the 2 door.  He drops into the leather seat and buckles his seatbelt.  This time Saeyoung drives more reasonably.  Comparable to Jihyun as he makes an attempt to stick to the speed limit, watching Jumin from the corner of his eye.

“Would you like to come up and say ‘Hello’ to Elizabeth III while I get your sweater for you?” Jumin asks when Saeyoung has found a place in the parking garage.

“Really?” he asks, his face brightening up.

“Of course, she seemed to like you despite your unconventional approach to affection.”

Saeyoung chuckles. “So you’re not upset with me?”

“I am not,” Jumin says, he forces himself to smile. 

“I appreciate that you didn’t tell them who I really was.  Yoosung is a good kid, he’s only a year younger than me, but I feel so much older than him.”  He sighs and Jumin watches his shoulders relax. “He has no idea who I am, it’s nice you know?”

“I imagine it would be,” Jumin says as the elevator lurches to a stop.

“He just thinks I’m some weird nerd he met on a video game, you know.  Shit he invited me to lunch and got you to fuckin pay because he thinks I’m just another broke student.”  Saeyoung shakes his head and runs his fingers through his hair.

“I am jealous if I’m honest,” Jumin shrugs, unlocking his door, “I’m not certain I could construct a situation where I am unrecognizable.”

Jumin has only been out a few hours.  Despite that the hamper in his room is empty, his bed made. What was left of his suit from the night before is gone, he assumes to the cleaners, and Saeyoung’s tshirt and sweater are folded neatly on top of his dresser.

“You could you know,” Saeyoung calls from where he’s laid on the floor with Elizabeth.  “Muss up your perfect hair, dress sloppy, wear sunglasses.  You’d be fine.”

“I have to disagree,” Jumin shrugs, “I have tried but my,” he sighs, “my  _ personality _ gives me away.”

Saeyoung chuckles rolling onto his back and tapping his chest. “Yeah I guess, that’s a problem.” He catches one of Elizabeth’s feet in his hands and brings them to his face singing  _ beans beans beans _ before he looks back to Jumin. “Oh I’ve sent your things to my drycleaner. You can swing by tomorrow and pick it up at my place or I can bring it by,” he hugs the cat to his chest and jumps to his feet, “visit my new best girl.”

Jumin swallows, “I would like to come by tomorrow I think,” he’s thumbing through his phone, making note of his missed calls and emails, “providing something does not come up I think I would like to treat you to a proper dinner to make up for today.”

Saeyoung laughs and lets Elizabeth wriggle out of his arms and up onto his shoulder where she perches staring down at them quizzically. “I’m not sure what you’re making up to me, it was your friend that seemed upset.”

“Jihyun and Rika are more than used to me, they were however quite rude to you and I feel as though-”

“It’s no big deal, no need to bring out Mr.Business,” Saeyoung chuckles leaning so that Elizabeth can make the leap from his shoulder to the back of the couch.

Jumin can see the pink blush that highlights his freckles. “Then let me take you to dinner in return for your invitation the other night.  I enjoyed myself more than I expected to.”

The blush spreads and with it a lopsided smile. “A date?”

Jumin sighs. “I suppose if you must call it that.”

Jumin rolls his eyes as he watches out the tinted windows of his black Sedan.   _ A date _ ?  Jumin isn’t certain what game Saeyoung Choi is playing.  Certainly he could see himself making a friend of this man.  Saeyoung treated him like he did anyone else, a rarity in his life. Jumin could befriend the younger man on that alone.

Then there had been those few moments of vulnerability he had seen.  Brief glimpses into the person behind the jokes and the tabloid photos.  Jumin Han had been intrigued by the public face of Saeyoung Choi but he wanted to know the man he was when no one was looking.  

He wasn’t opposed to taking that man on a date.

Should his father chose to go into politics Jumin was aware that to  _ openly  _ date a man t _ could _ affect his approval ratings.  He’s almost certain this is the Prime Ministers reasoning for choosing Saeran as his heir.  Saeyoung was much more personable but the people of Korea were perhaps not yet ready for Saeyoung Choi’s brand of politics.

Whether this date was a joke, or not Jumin was going to take it seriously.  

His car slows and he steps out, nervous for a moment, unsure who he’ll be meeting in the small apartment.  He would not mind if Saeyoung chose to crossdress for the evening, he hadn’t thought to specify but Jumin was hoping to get to know him better.  If it was up to him he would rather take him as he was.

Jumin sends Saeyoung a text as he steps into the elevator and receives an emoji in response as he hits the button to his new friend’s floor.  He waits, considering if he should perhaps tell him not to dress up for the evening.  Though he suspects that would only end in teasing.  

He’d left the office and come directly here.  Jumin preferred to do things on a schedule.  If he had gone home and changed into something more casual he couldn’t guarantee they’d be seated by 6.  

He knocks on the door and checks the knob.  He’s already announced himself so when the door is not locked he pushes it open.

“You’re fucking late, you promised.”  Saeyoung sits at the computer across the apartment.  His red hair a mess, his voice hoarse, his sweater seems too big or too small, Jumin can’t decide.

“I’m sorry, I thought I was early.”

The chair squeals as it swivels around.  The man facing him is pale, has fewer freckles than Saeyoung.  He squints, too green eyes narrowing on Jumin for a moment before Jumin realizes the man in front of him is Saeyoung’s twin.  Neither get a chance to speak again before the door swings open, bumping Jumin a few steps forward.

“Hah, Saeran, you know Jumin Han right?” He pants.

“You didn’t tell me someone was coming here today,” Saeran rasps, turning back to the computer.

“You’re not supposed to be talking,” Saeyoung says, he give Jumin and apologetic look. “You have a speech tomorrow and you’ve almost lost your voice come on.”

“Yeah yeah, ok,” Saeran mumbles.

Saeyoung sets a bag on the desk next to his brother, “there’s medicine and lemon tea, the restaurant across the street makes a really nice soup.”

“I know,” Saeran says in quiet irritation before he pulls a headset over his hea.

“Don’t fucking,” Saeyoung grabs on ear and pulls it out, “don’t fucking spend all evening screaming at people on the internet.”

Jumin can see the smaller twin’s shoulders tense and an automated woman’s voice calls out  _ microphone mute active _ .

Saeyoung straightens up and rolls his eyes at Jumin. “Sorry I’m late, he won’t take care of himself if I don’t make him.  I just have to change.”

“Please,” Jumin smiles, this peak into his relationship with his brother, this peak into Saeran out of the public eye more than he could have hoped for, “don’t worry about it.”

“I know you’re pretty punctual. I’ll be quick.” Saeyoung shrugs and stretches.

“You don’t,” Jumin swallows trying to choose his words carefully, “please don’t dress up on my account,” he presses his lips together not sure if he’d chose the right ones. “Dress however you like,” he tries to clarify.

Saeyoung’s face breaks into a lopsided grin.  “Hmm, now that you mention it I hadn’t thought about what to wear.”

Jumin frowns.  He’d chosen wrong, he’s being teased.  “Dress however you like,” he repeats.

Saeyoung chuckles and disappears down the hall.

Jumin is relieved when he comes back in sight, his hair carefully tousled, a thick cardigan under a Verragamo blazer, Jumin recognizes it as one he also owns.  He can see a hint of a graphic tshirt, a silhouette of a cat in a galaxy print.  Jumin has gathered that his new friend is a fan of both outer space and cats.

“I’m not underdressed am I, Hyung?” Saeyoung asks.

“No, of course not I simply did not have time to change before we’d planned to meet.”

Saeyoung smirks. “You know you could borrow something of mine.”

Jumin shakes his head.  His fingers make quick work of his tie as he loosens it and pulls it over his head.  He shoves it in his jacket pocket, unbuttons his waistcoat and the top few buttons of his shirt. Saeyoung chuckles.

“I have a sweater in the car, if that would make you more comfortable,” Jumin says, smiling a little at Saeyoung.

“Your car huh?” Saeyoung whistles. “You’re going all out tonight, Hyung.”

“I didn’t want your driving to ruin my appetite,” he quips.

Saeyoung laughs, “Ouch!”


	3. More Measuring up than Just Wasting Time

Jumin Han was a man unlike any other Saeyoung Choi had ever met.  The first night he’d been surprised to see the C&R heir, Mr. Eligible Bachelor, eye him up from his toes to his hair.  So he thought he’d play the game.  Except Jumin Han didn’t play by the rules.

Saeyoung had thought he’d teach him.  Jumin knew him from tabloid magazines and he had seen his new friend in his share of tabloid spreads.  Jumin Han who didn’t go to clubs but had a different woman on his arm every time he was caught by a photographer.  Right now Jumin Han was Mr. Business but Saeyoung was pretty good at bringing out a person’s charms.

Jumin Han didn’t not play by the rules, he was completely ignorant of them.  Saeyoung calls him Hyung, and he can see the man blush, knows he’s found a soft spot.  Except Saeyoung changes, cross dresses for him and he can see the man falter.  Jumin Han isn’t just refusing to play, he doesn’t know there is a game.  He doesn’t want anything from Saeyoung.

Saeyoung doesn’t know what to do with that.

But Jumin had loosened up, they’d had fun

Jumin knowing Yoosung had been a surprise.  The kid usually can’t keep anything to himself and yet he hadn’t mentioned having a very important friend.  Of course Seven couldn’t blame him for keeping secrets, there was plenty Yoosung didn’t know about him.  Including the fact that the two of them had never played LOLOL together.

Jumin Han could have blown his cover at Lunch.  Saeyoung had expected it.  Had expected the man to hold out his hand and smile smugly and say  _ Lovely to see you again Saeyoung _ , but he didn’t.  He raised an eyebrow and kept up the charade.  Despite the fact that he suffered for it.  Refusing to discuss the man sitting right next to him with his very curious friends.

Saeyoung was almost disappointed.

He can’t believe, checking his watch in the line up at the pharmacy, that he actually trusts this man after only two days.  Maybe not the way normal people trust, not the way Yoosung Kim trusts Seven, but more than Saeyoung has trusted anyone besides Saeran for a very long time.  

He trusts him enough to let him back into his sanctuary.  The place his brother goes to recover when his immune system fails him.  The place he works.  The place he keeps his taboo closet and takes his taboo partners.  The place his sick brother was supposed to be recovering right now.

It should be ok.  He should be there just before Jumin and the other man was already aware of his brother’s health.  He can trust Jumin Han.

Jumin texts him as he’s turning the street to his house, and he responds with an eggplant emoji, he realizes afterwards that Jumin Han likely doesn’t know what that means.  He supposes he’ll know if the other man is blushing when he comes in.

He’s not.

Saeyoung swings the door open, his brother in his abnormally green contacts is glowering at him as the door hits Jumin and bumps him a few steps forward.

“You know Jumin Han, right?” He says to his brother with a meaningful tilt of his head.

“You didn’t say anyone else was going to be be here,” his brother’s voice is hoarser than it had been earlier when he’d shuttled him from his own apartment.  

He scolds Saeran, sets the medicine next to him on the desk and reads him his rights.  Makes it sound like suggestions but they both know he means that Saeran is supposed to eat the soup from the restaurant across the street.  He scolds him again and then before he straightens up Saeran whispers “Dad’s gonna be pissed if you fuck this one.”

He pretends he didn’t hear that.  Their Dad was pissed about most anything he did with his personal life.  He’d lost track of all the rules he broke.  Only keeping to one,  _ don’t get attached _ .  Jumin Han looked like the kind of guy who didn’t fuck for fun. Chairman Han seemed like he was expecting grandchildren.  Jumin Han looked like he was the type to follow his father’s plan.

He watches Jumin Han carefully choose his words before he goes to change.  He wonders, as he stares into his closet, if he chose to cross dress would Jumin Han have something to say about it.  He hadn’t planned this far.  He decides to do what he was asked. Decides he’ll question this out of character decision when he has less going on.

Decides to dress in a way he knows the other man will appreciate.

“I’m not underdressed am I, Hyung?” He teases Jumin, offers to loan him more clothing but finds himself blushing slightly when Jumin quickly sheds his jacket and tie.  Something about the way he unbuttons his shirt makes Saeyoung’s mouth dry.

Jumin teases him about his driving and he jokes back, tries to hide the way his heart twists in his chest.

“Dummy,” Saeran croaks as Jumin opens the door.

“Oh!” Saeyoung shoves his twin playfully and grabs the jacket and shirt hanging in the hall closet.  “Our transaction is complete,” he bows theatrically.

Both Jumin and Saeran groan.

True to his word Jumin has a sweater in the car, heavy green and very near to the sweater he’d been wearing the day before.  It looks soft and Saeyoung thinks if this were anyone else he would reach out and touch the sweater, rub the yarn between his fingers.  He doesn’t. This is going to be an innocent friendship.  He’d already gotten a lecture from his father about appropriate behavior and the importance of the Han’s contribution to his campaign.

A sudden guilty thought hits him. “I’m sorry, I’ve probably caused a lot of trouble for you,” he says, remembering the look on his father’s face.

“Hmm,” Jumin frowns. “You were barely a moment behind me, don’t worry about it.”

“No no,” Saeyoung shakes his head.

“Do you mean with Jihyun?  I’m sure he’ll get over it.  I can think of worse things I’ve done than refuse to gossip,” he chuckles.

Saeyoung is baffled. “I mean with your father.”

“My  _ father _ ?” Jumin wonders, “Why would,” he pauses and Saeyoung is sure he’s remembered some comment, but then Jumin laughs. “ _ God _ , have you  _ met _ my father?  Certainly us leaving a party together is the least of his concerns when it comes to public perception.”  He covers his face and wipes at his eyes for a moment before he notice the bewildered look on Saeyoung’s face. “I’m sorry, that was uncalled for, I didn’t mean- Was  _ your _ father upset?”

Saeyoung swallows, “With me?” he forces a chuckle. “My father is always upset with me.”

“Is that why you cross dress?” Jumin asks honestly.

He laughs. “No,  _ that _ he doesn’t have much of an issue with.  He caught me with a boy when I was in highschool and told me he didn’t care what I did as long as I was discreet.”

Jumin snorts. “That seems, out of character.”

Saeyoung chuckles. “Well yeah, but I made a deal with a girl in my class for her spare uniform and had some theater kids teach me about makeup and now no one can prove it’s me.”

“I could,” Jumin says dryly.

“Hmm?”

“I know where your closet is,” he shrugs, “I could prove it’s you.”

Saeyoung laughs. “You’re not the only one.”

“Your freckles,” Jumin says but when Saeyoung only laughs louder he sets his jaw and narrows his eyes. “You have a scar on you nose, it’s not prominent but it is distinct.”

He stops. “What.”

“A scar,” Jumin repeats, reaching out and touching the spot on the side of his nose with the pale scar.

Saeyoung covers his nose, glad that his hand also covers his face so Jumin can’t see his blush. “Oh.”

Jumin chuckles, apparently pleased with himself.

Saeyoung can not understand this man. “So you like guys then?” He says as the car comes to a stop.

Jumin only shrugs. “I supposed I am open to most opportunities, it seems unnecessary to limit my choices.”

“And your father is alright with that?”

Jumin’s brown furrows while he considers, but the door opens before he can answer.  Saeyoung watches Jumin give his driver instructions before he gestures for him to follow.  

The restaurant is not unfamiliar.  He’s been here with his father and stepmother. It’s a nice place, Jumin had taken his date comment seriously.  They’re seated right away though it doesn’t seem as though Jumin has made reservations and then Jumin begins to order them both scotch and stops.

“I’m sorry Saeyoung, I should ask what you would like to drink, I don’t mean to control this meal.  We’re not doing business.”

“Oh uh,” he brushes his hair out of his face, “Daquri?”

Jumin smiles and nods to the waitress, “A  _ peach _ daquri, and a glass of the 2004 pinot, We’ll skip the first course, Mr. Choi does not like fish so he will have the chicken.”

The waitress nods.  And tucks the menus she hadn’t had a chance to hand them back under her arm. “Yes Sir.”

“You know a lot about me Hyung,” Saeyoung smirks raising an eyebrow.

“It seems only fair.  You’ve looked into me after all.”  Jumin folds his hands in front of him on the table.  “To answer your question, my father has certain expectations of me but I believe,” he says carefully, like he doesn’t quite believe what he’s saying, “ _ if _ I were to choose a relationship outside of those expectation he would support me.  Perhaps not immediately, my father is used to getting what he wants but _ I think  _ family would eventually outweigh his disappointment.”

“That sounds,” Saeyoung sighs, “nice?  Better than what I’m used to.”

“That’s unfortunate,” Jumin frowns. “Is this why your brother was chosen as his heir?”

Saeyoung chuckles. “Yes, I told him he picked the wrong son, that at least with me he might get grandkids but he rolled his eyes and told me  _ Saeran could adopt my bastards _ .” He snorts and tries to ignore the brief look of pity on Jumin’s face. “At least I don’t have to live under his microscope I guess.”

“What about your mother?”

Saeyoung snorts. “My step mother?  She has my half sister so she doesn’t really care about us and Mom died.”

“I’m sorry.”

Saeyoung shrugs. “I didn’t really know her.  She was sick and the medication she took is why Saeran gets sick so much, and she had a breakdown.  Dad had her sent away, she died when I was in highschool.”

“My Mother also died when I was in highschool,” Jumin nods, “and my step mother,” he frowns, “I wish she’d had a child of her own, she is not uh-”

“Yeah that’s-”

“I do not have to see her often,” Jumin says waving his hand.  “She’s only married to my father until he finds her replacement.”

“That’s kind of cold,” Saeyoung says.

Jumin shrugs. “It’s reality.”

They watch quietly as a couple is sat near them, Saeyoung smirks as his drink is set in front of him and takes a sip. “Dueling dates,” he chuckles. “Watch them Hyung, make sure you keep up.”

Jumin chuckles.

“Do you recognise them?” He asks quietly.  The restaurant was nice by their standards but a little more than your average saleryman could afford.  He doesn’t pay enough attention to the wealthy people who surround his family but Jumin likely knew the name and net worth of every person he’d ever been in a room with.

He’d hate for his date joke to actually get Jumin in trouble.

Jumin shakes his head, “I do not think they are regulars.”

“What do you think they’re talking about?” Saeyoung whispers, smirking at Jumin.

“If you were quiet you could hear them,” he chuckles softly.  He sits up as the waitress sets their meals in front of them, offers to top up their drinks.  Jumin waits for Saeyoung to nod before he also nods.

“I don’t want to  _ hear _ them,” Saeyoung snorts. “Don’t you have an imagination Mr. Director or do you  _ pay _ people for that?”

Jumin rolls his eyes but the hint of a smile plays at the corners of his mouth. “You’ll have to teach me.”

“Maybe you should be calling  _ me _ Hyung,” Saeyoung smirks.

Jumin shakes his head, his smile widens and his cheeks pink. “No I don’t think I should.”

It’s Saeyoung’s turn to blush.  Jumin Han, for all his perfectly pressed suits and carefully chosen words, the type of man the Prime Minister probably wished Saeyoung would have been, was just as mischievous deep down under all those crisp vertical stripes.  The question raises, as they subtly observe the couple to their left, what exactly is Jumin Han here for?

“So,” Saeyoug says softly, leaning towards Jumin, “the game is, we try to guess what they’re talking about.”

Jumin leans in conspiratorially. “The goal is humor then?”

Saeyoung nods, tries not to watch Jumin’s tongue as he wets his lips.  He wonders, was this a budding friendship, with someone who neither wanted or needed anything from him?  Was Jumin humoring his joke about the date, his sense of humor simply this dry?  Or was this Jumin’s way of courting him.  Certainly that’s what someone like Jumin would do. 

“My Darling,” Jumin starts, affecting a gravel to his voice that startles Saeyoung, “I have saved many weeks of my wage to bring you here, I do hope your palate is refined enough to appreciate it.”

Saeyoung snorts, “ _ What _ ?”  

“Was I too on the nose?” Jumin frowns.

“Oh my god,” he shakes his head, and busies himself with his meal, tries to decide if Jumin is fucking with him.  “Do you ever  _ talk _ to normal people?”

“I employ a number of  _ regular  _ people,” Jumin starts but Saeyoung laughs.

He leans over laughing to press his forehead against Jumin’s shoulder, “ _ Jesus Jumin _ ,” manages to wheeze as Jumin pushes him back up to sit properly in his chair, still laughing.  There’s some disgruntled sounds from the people sitting around them but Saeyoung imagines he’s probably being disruptive.  He’s never really cared about making a scene.

He stops abruptly when Jumin brushes the hair from his eyes.

“I didn’t think I was being  _ that _ funny,” Jumin smiles.

Saeyoung swallows.  _ God  _ what was the deal with this guy?  “Not intentionally,” Saeyoung agrees, taking a deep breath.

Jumin’s hand covers his and he smiles an earnest full smile, the same smile he’d had on his face when Saeyoung had driven him home that first night.  He opens his mouth to speak but then Jumin turns abruptly, the smile fading as he frowns towards the couple.

“I’m sorry if my friend interrupted your meal,”  Jumin says.  

The woman shakes her head and the man’s jaw sets. “I thought this place had standards.”

Saeyoung can see Jumin’s eyes narrow despite the neutral look on his face, “Yes I’m sure- My friend is used to being the most important person in the room, sometimes he forgets his manners.  If we’ve impeded your enjoyment, please allow me to pay for you and your guest.”

The man shakes his head. “I don’t want  _ your _ money,” the man snorts.  Saeyoung can see the embarrassed look on his date’s face.  He knows where this is going even if Jumin hasn’t picked up on it yet.  Jumin Han who seemed to think all things came back to money.

Jumin only frowns, “No I suppose,” he pauses, “please allow me to pay, it’s obvious this is a-”

“Obvious?” The man snorts, “You know what’s obvious?” The man pushes away from his table.

“Jumin,” Saeyoung says, not sure Jumin really grasps what’s happening.

“What is obvious,” Jumin starts and stands, stepping towards the man, confident and imposing, “is that this is not a venue you could normally afford, judging by the wear in your shoes and the ill fitting cut of your suit.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” The man growls stepping towards Jumin.  Saeyoung can see the staff, confused and unsure what to do.  He imagines a place like this doesn’t usually have to deal with more than a heated argument.

“Do you have any idea who you are speaking to?” Jumin snorts.

Saeyoung needs to get him to sit down or leave, needs to stop this, this guy doesn’t know who they are and that is the only good thing happening right now.

“A couple of homos,” the guys snorts.

Saeyoung doesn’t see Jumin move, he hears the crack, sees the man stumble.  Saeyoung sees the start of a nose bleed as the man’s hands cover his face, watches Jumin push his own chair into the table.  Everything seems to happen to someone else.  Jumin pulling his wallet out of his pocket as he gestures to Saeyoung to follow him.

He does, staring mute as his friend takes his hand and strides towards their waitress.  He listens baffled, confused, unsure what exactly he just witnessed as Jumin pays for the meals of every single person in the restaurant.

“Please,” Jumin says to the waitress with an arm around his waist, “apologise on our behalf, I didn’t not intend to cause a scene.”

“Oh no Mr. Han,” the woman nods reassuringly, “that gentleman obviously-”

“Regardless,” Jumin waves her off, “I should have behaved better.”

Saeyoung isn’t used to this.  To someone worrying about anyone but themselves.  He’s even more confused now,, standing on the curb waiting for Jumin’s driver, than he was in the restaurant.  He gets the impression that had that man only been insulting Jumin he would have ignored it.  He doesn’t know how to process this, that Jumin didn’t just cause a commotion over someone  _ insulting _ Saeyoung but he  _ hit _ someone. 

God, did he know how hot that was?  Ushering Saeyoung out of the restaurant with his arm around his waist like they were actually on a date.  He has no idea how to respond.

“Shit Jumin,” he says when they step outside, “let me see your hand.”

“My hand?” Jumin says, and Saeyoung can see the adrenaline fading, the slight pale to his face, the way his breathing speeds up as he realizes what he’s done.

“Yeah, you hit that guy right?” Saeyoung says, forces a smile to try to keep Jumin calm.

“I suppose I did,” he says, his voice a little far away as he holds out his hand.

Jumin’s knuckles are red as Saeyoung turns his hand over, one is bleeding slightly where it must have caught on the man’s tooth. “Jesus Jumin, you do that often?”

“Not usually,” Jumin says softly as Saeyoung pulls a tissue out of his pocket and dabs at the blood on Jumin’s knuckle. “Not in a long time.”

Saeyoung chuckles, “So you  _ used  _ to get in a lot of fights?  Bare knuckle boxing, what?”

“I used to have, impulse issues,” Jumin says, eyes trained on his hand.

Saeyoung watches Jumin’s big black car pull up to the curb. “Well you didn’t have to get in a fight on my behalf.”

“It was hardly a fight,” Jumin responds as his driver opens the door.

They stand there for a moment, Saeyoung not ready to let go of Jumin’s hand just yet, but then Jumin gently tugs his hand away and gestures for Saeyoung to get in the car first.

He does, Jumin following closely after.  Too closely, Saeyoung finds the taller man leaning over him before he’s passes the center of the seat, grey eyes boring into him curiously as the door closes behind him.  There’s a moment where Saeyoung holds his breath, Jumin seems to consider something, the air is thick.  Then it clears and Saeyoung continues to the other side of the car.

“Were you done with my hand?” Jumin asks, the look on his face is unreadable.

Saeyoung isn’t even sure what he had been doing with Jumin’s hand but at the mention he reaches out, takes it in his own and looks again, “It might bruise,” he warns.  As if Jumin Han who’d just admitted he used to get in fights in his youth would be unaware.

Jumin shrugs.  Touching him again the air in the car feels charged and without realizing what he’s doing Saeyoung brings Jumin’s wounded hand to his mouth, and presses a kiss to his knuckles.  He can feel his cheeks heat up as he freezes.  

When he looks up Jumin is closer than he remembered, a curious look on his face as he gently tugs his hand out of Saeyoung’s.  Jumin brushes the curling red hair out of his eyes and leaves his fingers buried in Saeyoung’s hair, his thumb brushes the smaller man’s cheekbone and he cocks his head to the side.  Eyes dropping to Saeyoung’s lips.

“I wonder,” Jumin murmurs.  He leans forwards slightly and Saeyoung freezes.

He definitely wants Jumin to kiss him but what would it mean for the other man.  What kind of trouble would that cause.  Certainly they both know that they’re likely to appear in the tabloids in the morning.

Jumin stops, lips so close that Saeyoung would only have to relax his own lips, pressed tight with nerves, for them to touch.  He can feel Jumin’s warm breath as his soulful grey eyes search his face.  Jumin is waiting for him, he realizes.  Jumin wants to kiss him but he wants to make sure Saeyoung wants to be kissed before he does it.

He takes a deep breath through his nose, and decides to do it.  He leans forward, lips brushing against Jumin’s, the hand in his hair tightening slightly.

The door opens.  Jumin sits back unphased. 

“We’ve arrived Mr. Han,” Jumin’s driver says.

**Author's Note:**

> I've wanted to write a JuCiel piece for a while now, this is _very loosely_ inspired by Princess Jellyfish


End file.
